


missed each other on the way

by zhovel



Series: the basement [1]
Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, THE OPPOSITE OF A MEET CUTE, a leave sad???, this is just 2k words of hong kong aesthetics and hurting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhovel/pseuds/zhovel
Summary: All Haseul knows is that she had fallen in love somewhere along the way; under the glow of the neon lights on their faces and late-night rides on the tram on their way back home and over the sticky sweetness of dessert when it was just the two of them, alone in a booth, and the old lady who ran the shop and never told anybody about the two girls that frequent her shop.(or; Haseul loves Kahei, but she's leaving Hong Kong anyway.)
Relationships: Jo Haseul/Viian Wong | ViVi
Series: the basement [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836037
Comments: 28
Kudos: 67
Collections: Girl Group Jukebox (Round 2)





	missed each other on the way

Her phone is buzzing again, for the third time that night. Haseul finally caves and digs her phone out from her bag, answering without checking the screen, because there could only be one person calling her this late at night. Or rather— this early in the morning. 

"Kahei?"

The reply is instant and gruff. “Why the hell are you awake?”

“Why do you think?” Haseul throws back, checking over her shoulder to make sure that no one’s following her home. She’s picked up another shift again without telling Kahei. She’s skipped one too many meals this week, and rent is due in a few days, and she doesn’t want to have to ask Kahei for anything more. She knows that Kahei would’ve insisted on buying her lunch or at least on walking her home after her shift; but she’s seen the bags under Kahei’s eyes. 

Neither of them are coping well these days.

When Kahei sighs, it’s full of impatience. “Give me five minutes,” she says shortly, and hangs up.

Damn her stubborn ass. 

Haseul glowers at the empty street in front of her, dimly lit with sparse streetlights, and suddenly she’s hit with a sense of deja vu. Haseul looks around, frowning, until she realises that she’s on the same street where she met Kahei. She quickens her footsteps until she sees the garbage bin, still there, big and orange and ugly, then Haseul smiles to herself, thinking about how they met.

She was on her way back home from a late-night shift. The roads were quiet like they are now, but Haseul wasn’t really in the mood to care back then. Not when she was overwhelmed by school, and rent, and her job— 

And right in front of her was the garbage bin, looking inviting. 

The streets were empty enough when she looked around. 

Haseul hesitated. Then she kicked the bin in front of her so hard that the dull thump of the plastic echoed through the street, and a little thrill of satisfaction rushed through her. It was nice not caring for a change. 

She drew her leg back, about to kick it again, but— 

“That poor bin didn’t deserve that.”

Haseul jumped, letting out a tiny squeak before slapping a hand over her mouth. She didn’t expect anyone to see. 

A slight girl stepped out from a nearby alley, a sly grin on her face. Haseul’s shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit at the sight, but just in case, she still raised her fists and tried her best to seem threatening. “W-what’s your name!” (Haseul would’ve gone with a good old _stay away from me!_ , but she still hasn’t picked up quite enough Cantonese to do that.)

The girl raised her eyebrows. “How’re you going to defend yourself from big bad men if they can see your hands shaking?” 

Haseul looked down. Her fists, indeed, were trembling. 

The girl shrugged, and Haseul would’ve caught the teasing glint in her eye even if she didn’t know Cantonese. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just thought that something might be wrong. People usually just walk _past_ bins instead of kicking them, you know. You alright?”

“Good enough,” Haseul said warily, wincing at the sudden surprise colouring the girl’s expression the second she heard Haseul’s heavy accent. She braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

Except— the girl just switched to Korean. “Why are you out so late at night?” 

This time, Haseul was the one left gaping at the way the girl just casually continued the conversation. “You _know_ Korean?” 

“I was a trainee for a while,” the girl said, “no big deal. I’m Kahei.”

“Kahei,” Haseul repeated slowly. Somehow, she liked the way the name sounded in her mouth. “I’m Haseul.” And something in Haseul, back then, told her that Kahei was going to be someone important. “I was going home from work, and this bin was in the way, so I had to kick its ass.”

When had it changed for the two of them?

Kahei used to grin her crooked smile and show Haseul around her favourite places, even though they only met up when it was past midnight. Haseul had early morning classes, but at some point, it turned from mischief into something bigger, better than the two of them, sprawling out into the city. 

But it’s gone now. 

Haseul doesn’t remember the last time they had hung out like that, simple and no underlying tension underneath. 

It’s with reluctance that Haseul digs her hands into her pockets and waits for Kahei to arrive. When she finally spots Kahei trudging towards her, it’s obvious from her crumpled clothes that she had hopped out straight from bed. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” Haseul chides. Behind them, the street lights flicker, and she loses sight of her shadow momentarily. 

“You're gonna be gone soon, aren't you?" Kahei says, eyes completely unreadable in the dark. "Gotta get as much Haseul time as I can before you leave me.”

(Haseul could’ve chosen to stay, that’s the thing. They both knew. She barely had any ties in Korea, and it wouldn’t have been that hard to secure a job here. But she decided to transfer to a Korean university, anyway; and Kahei loved her too much to blame her for it, even though Haseul could’ve chosen her instead.

Haseul thought they both knew that this was temporary when it started. But apparently not. She should’ve let it remain as the elephant in the room instead of dropping the bomb on Kahei like she did, that she’s leaving, just a week before her flight back home.)

Kahei hooks her fingers lightly onto Haseul’s arm, lingering for a moment too long, and Haseul feels all the words that are unsaid between them. It makes her a little unsettled, so she juts out her chin. “You always come home with me. What about you?” 

The words were meant to come out teasing. They just ring hollow instead. 

Haseul is trying too hard to pretend things are normal, when it’s not the same anymore. It hasn’t been the same since Haseul decided that she wanted this to be temporary and things started falling apart and try as she might, Haseul can’t piece the tiny shards of their relationship back together. 

“We can’t do this anymore once you’re back in Korea,” says Kahei.

The buildings in Hong Kong spiral upwards instead of out. Haseul is still not used to the sight, even after months, and it makes her claustrophobic sometimes. She didn't realise how far away from home she was until she was stumbling off a plane last September, bleary-eyed, with no one there to welcome her. The people here are snobbish, the sky is greyer than she thought it would be, and Haseul is homesick. 

Hong Kong wasn’t what she expected.

But she met Kahei. And Kahei was the one who made her fall in love, and Haseul doesn’t want to think about if she loves the city or the girl in front of her. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to regret anything when she leaves. All she wants to do is to go back in time, when things were simple and the possibilities were endless and before everything went wrong. 

Maybe in a different universe, they would’ve stumbled across each other anyway.

“Come with me,” she says, before she can remember why that is a bad idea. “On the tram. Come home with me.”

She means it in more ways than one. 

Haseul wants to lean forward and close the distance between them, but it would mean hurting Kahei even more than she already did, and selfish as she is, Haseul can’t quite bring herself to do that. 

They both look up at the same time. Kahei’s doe eyes are impossibly sad, and Haseul is suddenly confronted with the fact that this wouldn’t have happened if she never rushed into things headfirst. If only there was some magical way to reverse time. If only Haseul thought about the implications of what they were doing.

Why didn’t Haseul choose this when she still had the chance to?

“I don’t want you to go yet.”

The sun is about to rise. Against her, Kahei’s fingers twitch unconsciously. Haseul wishes there weren’t walls between them now. 

“I know.”

(All Haseul knows is that she had fallen in love somewhere along the way; under the glow of the neon lights on their faces and late-night rides on the tram on their way back home and over the sticky sweetness of dessert when it was just the two of them, alone in a booth, and the old lady who ran the shop and never told anybody about the two girls that frequent her shop.

They always squished into one tiny booth, feet tangled together. Sometimes, Kahei fed her pudding with her own spoon. Haseul knew that her mother would’ve yelled at her if she saw her like this, out in the streets late at night, alone with another girl. 

But this isn’t home. No one knows Haseul. 

Still, it took her months to gather up the courage to reach over for Kahei’s hands, and they were rough to the touch but Haseul had traced the pads of Kahei's fingers anyway. “I’m happy when I’m around you,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the fans. Any louder, and their little bubble of tranquility would’ve been broken.

Kahei had grinned at her, and it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Haseul supposed that’s what fascinated her in the first place. “Heard the workload’s horrid for a future big shot lawyer.” 

Haseul shoved her roughly. "I’m not gonna be a lawyer."

"Pah," Kahei said, flapping a dismissive hand at her. "It's all the same to me. Words. Books. You’re smart." There’s an unspoken _I’m not_ in there. 

Haseul reached over and touched her shoulder gently. "You're one of the cleverest people I know."

Kahei’s eyes darted up, then down; then her gaze skittered across the floor, anywhere but Haseul. "You should be back on campus. It's late."

Haseul had thought, _oh_. 

Some things were simple like that. The first blossom of the season, the first time Haseul realised that she wouldn’t mind being around Kahei forever, because this was someone who loved her with everything she had. 

"I'd rather be here with you," Haseul says. "I'd rather be anywhere with you.")

It’s all a distant memory now. 

Two months ago, they snuck onto the rooftop of one of the shabby buildings Kahei frequents, and Kahei kissed the side of her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. 

"I can't take you anywhere special," she had said, and her eyes were completely earnest. "But you'll have this forever with me. The streets, the music, the lights."

Then where had it all gone, Haseul thinks desperately, where did the certainty go? 

_Come home with me_ , Haseul thinks silently, but the words don't leave her mouth because she doesn't know if she deserves a place beside Kahei anymore.

::

The way back home is quiet.

Haseul looks out of the window, and tries not to think about the way that Kahei’s leg is pressed against hers as the tram shudders its slow way back towards the dorm. Her eyes start drooping. Kahei notices. Of course she does. 

“Go to sleep," Kahei says, gently maneuvering Haseul's head onto her shoulder. "I'll wake you up." 

Kahei is too good to her, Haseul thinks groggily. 

Between her half-closed eyes, she catches a glimpse of Kahei pulling her phone out and opening their text messages. 

**Kahei (5:30am):** i’m sorry i can’t say this straight to your face

 **Kahei (5:30am):** but i love you too much

 **Kahei (5:30am):** please don’t say it back. I don’t think i can let you go otherwise. 

Haseul squeezes her eyes shut, and decides that maybe she doesn’t want to know. 

The way away from home is quiet. 

Haseul mumbles something blearily when her head drops off Kahei’s shoulder. In the midst of the daze, she feels Kahei's hand propping her head back onto her shoulder, fingers lingering too long on the side of her jaw, and there is something soft and hesitant pressed onto the side of her head. Then Kahei is shaking her awake, and they’re stumbling off the tram at the second-last stop. 

“Don’t check your phone yet, alright?” Kahei says. 

Haseul squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t want you to go.”

Kahei just smiles at her sadly. “Don’t make me into the villain here.”

“Nooo…” Haseul mumbles. 

Kahei takes her hand. She hesitates, then she’s pressing Haseul’s knuckles to her lips, and the fleeting touch is enough to make something bittersweet bloom inside Haseul. “Text me when you get home.”

Kahei doesn’t look at Haseul the same way as she used to anymore. Haseul wishes things weren’t as complicated, that she can reach over and cup Kahei’s cheek and know if Kahei misses her as much as Haseul does. 

“I will.”

Around them, the city is showing the first signs of waking up. Haseul watches Kahei wave goodbye and start her long walk home, and even though the city is starting to bustle with people, Haseul has never felt this lonely before in her entire life. 

She doesn’t want to know how this ends. 

**Author's Note:**

> written for gg jukebox round 2, inspired by the story of us by taylor swift.
> 
> this is more of a drabble and a little different (???) from my other fics but i hope you had a good time reading it! please lmk!! unofficially [this mv](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sg8V5BLMEhE) and [wind flower by mamamoo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOZ2r_UAfdc) were also huge inspirations, especially for the whole vibes/aesthetics of the fic. title taken from wind flower. 
> 
> twitter: [yvezoul](https://twitter.com/yvezoul)  
> curiouscat: [yvezoul](https://curiouscat.me/yvezoul)  
> 


End file.
